Poesia kaiera
LXVII
Inez Millholandentzat
1923ko azaroaren hamazortzian Washingtonen irakurria, emakumeen eskubide berdintasunaren kausako hiru liderren estatuaren inaugurazioan
Ni ez naizen gizaburu marmolezko honetan
Jarri fama ez den koroa formal biribila;
Baina nire oihu isilduaren foroan
Errotu zaitez, su esnedun zuhaitz bizia.
Harro eta bipil nintzen hau, ez naiz gehiago...;
Ezpada ametsa lez, harat-honat berantorduz,
Ezpada haizea lez, ate irmoan jo eta jo
Sutondo gordean hausterrea nahaspilatuz.
Hilko da harria; hauts dateke bitan naizena.
Mendian garaile nire ikurra jarriz soilik
Burla litezke urdina eta uger gorri iluna
Nire gogo egongaitza hilezin eginik.
Oraintxe ere ari da mastan zeta tiraka:
Lotu kantuari bada, hilartitza ahaztuta.
LXVII
To Inez Milholland
/ Read in Washington, November eighteenth, 1923, at the unveiling of a statue of three leaders in the cause of Equal Rights for Women // Upon this marble bust that is not I / Lay the round, formal wreath that is not fame; / But in the forum of my silenced cry / Root ye the living tree whose sap is flame. / I, that was proud and valiant, am no more;— / Save as a dream that wanders wide and late, / Save as a wind that rattles the stout door, / Troubling the ashes in the sheltered grate. / The stone will perish; I shall be twice dust. / Only my standard on a taken hill / Can cheat the mildew and the red-brown rust / And make immortal my adventurous will. / Even now the silk is tugging at the staff: / Take up the song; forget the epitaph.